


the sun kissing me with its golden mouth

by gabriphales



Series: gomens drabble hell [124]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), dumbass poly couple shares a bed thats it, oh and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29055276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: aziraphale struggles to sleep. crowley and gabriel help him
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens), Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: gomens drabble hell [124]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664713
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	the sun kissing me with its golden mouth

**Author's Note:**

> u ever just wish u had a snake crowley to snuggle with or am i just deranged

he rolls over on his side, and huffs, prodding at crowley’s shoulder. when that isn't enough to wake him, he shakes him again, eventually sighing out a sore-hearted _”darling.”_

crowley sniffles in the bright, clean air, his slit-thin pupils squinting as he adjusts to a stumbling consciousness. “wos’issit?” he mumbles, eventually steadying his heavy tongue to hiss a clearer, “wha’s wrong?”

aziraphale’s smile heaves a weighted lift of relief. crowley spots the sinking in his shoulders, and the dim blue shine reflected in his eyes like a ring light, and he knows something’s wrong. better yet, he knows he can do something to fix it. aziraphale, being generally compassionate, and overdosed on empathy, tends to only hand him problems his fingers have memorized the shape of. knots he can easily unwind. 

stretching his hand to cup over aziraphale’s cheek, he leans in closer, the heat of their breath intermingling. “what do you need, angel?”

and aziraphale pouts, that soppy, pleading little pout he only uses when he truly wants something. there's a sincerity behind the curved corners of his mouth, and crowley knows he's only doing this to better hide a real frown. he kisses him. just once, short and sweet. but it’s a gentle reminder, a puzzle piece locking into place. he’s safe here, crowley will make sure he knows that. 

“could you,” aziraphale whispers, faint, softly sick, like an ill victorian child. “could you - perhaps, if it isn't much trouble - you could - _snake?_ ”

the last bit is spoken so quietly crowley wants to trap the words in his own mouth, tender between his teeth, and cherish their first fledgling steps when he sets them out flying again. he wants to protect aziraphale. it's a simple, easily fulfilled desire. so he doesn't chuckle, and he doesn't tease. instead, he only nods, and makes use of his human lips with a kiss to both cheeks, both eyelids, and the fluttering press of lashes that tickle just beneath his nose. when aziraphale opens his eyes once more, crowley is spread across the bed, a smooth serpent with candlelight shine painting a golden sun crest on every scale. his yellow eyes blink slowly, soothing aziraphale into a softer state. he scritches at the top of crowley’s head, thumb rubbing over his rounded snout.

“in my lap - would you?” aziraphale asks, looking guilty for dragging anything more out of crowley’s willing patience. crowley, however, is nothing if not happy to provide. he nestles up against aziraphale, head on his chest, and the grandiose length of this form bunched in coils down the rest of his body. aziraphale strokes along his neck in fluid, one-pass motions. it’s an easy pressure that has crowley rustling his tongue, making all sorts of pleasant, unserpently sounds. 

the bed grunts beneath the stern, sharp movement of gabriel lurching upwards, turning to face them both as he asks, “is something wrong?”

before aziraphale can answer, and undoubtedly sugarcoat the whole thing in apologies and promises of comfort, crowley blurts out, “angel’s not feeling well.”

gabriel rubs his eyes, groaning in and out of a bleary stupor, until he remembers how to form words. “should i do something?”

once again, aziraphale is cut off from assuring him that, _really, he's quite alright,’_ as crowley hisses, “of course you ssshould. be a decent husband, for sssatan’s sake.”

“okay, hold on, just let me - “ the room floods with light, a glowing entourage of heavenly grace spilling over the sides, pouring out the windows, and, most likely, sprouting concerns from more than a few neighbors. gabriel’s wings have unfolded, all six of them. they’re bright and pearly, perfectly fluffed, and he poses them like a posturing swan. he looks a little too proud of himself. 

“would these help? you used to like sleeping under them. i mean, before - “ 

“before eden, yes.” aziraphale yawns, curling in on gabriel, and inviting him to lay back down. gabriel does so, his wings enveloping both him and crowley. the heat that gathers is calming beyond measure, like lying beneath the thickest downy bedcover imaginable. aziraphale is dozing off within minutes, with crowley soon to follow.

not one of them wakes up again until the sun rises.

**Author's Note:**

> i live w the knowledge that archangels have six wings every day and it just..,,,,,..,, the cuddles they could have ,,, 👌👌👌


End file.
